Calling of Saint McManus
by SilverGilded
Summary: I knew I was going to die and when I saw two saint's I knew it was over, but what about my son? Connor and Murphy watched a woman die in their arms as they tried to save her. Can the brothers grant this nameless woman one last request?
1. Silent Screamer

It hurt. Everything hurt. I couldn't put any one point on the pain that seeped through every vein in my body, but all this was physical. My mind was numb and blank. I felt so detached from what happened or I detached myself of what was happening. I don't remember. I don't want to remember, because if I do it makes it real. I don't want it to be real. I never want it to be real. This should never happen. Not to me. Not to other women or to anyone. Not ever.

But it did. Oh God! It did! I can't believe I let it happen! I should have done something, anything. I never should have been walking alone. I never should have taken that short way home. I should have ran. I should have fought back, but he was too strong. I had a gun in my purse. My dad made me carry it when I moved here. I should have used it, but I didn't. Why didn't I use that damn thing?

I'm cold. I need to get out of here. I try to get up, but my legs fail me and I fall back against the brick wall. I try lifting myself using the dumpster as leverage. It does nothing and ends up sending a flare of pain up my side. Something was definitely broken. As the pain died away , I had the vague notion that I wasn't going to live to see tomorrow. I wasn't going to be able to do the things that I've always put off of doing. I always thought I would have the time, but time is a cruel thing. It can be cut short.

I didn't want to die, but at that moment I didn't really care. I could feel my heart slowing. I could feel my lungs becoming that much harder to use and my body, propped up catty-cornered on the wall, sat perfectly still. I couldn't do it. This was the one time that I have ever given up and I didn't care anymore. I just wanted to sleep. I wanted it to all go away and leave me alone.

'_Hey, Mom!'_

Huh? What was that?

'_Mom! Will you help me practice my pitching?' came the squeak of my 9 year old._

'_Sure, baby,' I smile as I watched a head of black hair bound out of the kitchen and when he smiled a toothy grin back at me through the glass door, I felt my heart break. Adam will never know who his father is._

Adam! My son! He's 18 and out on his own! My son is still out there! I prayed to whatever god was out there that he was home. I had to get to his house! I had to keep him safe! I could feel the panic restarting my slowing body. No one is going to hurt my son! There WILL BE Hell to pay if anyone so much as looks at him the wrong way! I started to move again, this time determined to get up and make as much noise a possible. To get someone's attention in this God forsake place!

I some how made it back to the dark open street, screaming for someone to help me. I kept stumbling. I had lost the feeling in my legs as soon as I started walking and the only thing that was keeping me up right was wall of the building next to me. I screamed louder this time, yelling for someone to at least look this way. I felt something warm come up my throat, burning my nose, but I just spat it out when it filled my mouth. I could feel my vocal cords wanting to break as I kept yelling with every ounce of energy I had. If they were going to snap, then I was going to get my use out of them before they did.

I veered slightly from the wall and I could feel my knees wanting to buckle. After one more yell I let them, but the ground never connected with my body. Something was holding me up or I should have said someone and even better or worse, it was two someone's. It felt so good to have someone help you. Even if I hadn't looked at their faces, their body's radiated something that warmed me to the core, sending the coldness away. My eyes puffed and filled with tears that were a mix of happiness and relief. I could feel everything go slack and it felt good.

"Th-thank y-y-you," I was able to stutter as my voice cracked and finally went out.

I felt my legs fold onto the ground, but something was supporting my back. I held onto it and buried my face into a soft fabric.

"Miss?," I heard, muffled from the fabric.

I moved my head towards the sound into a pair of dark blue eyes and dark brown hair. It was a man. He couldn't have been that much older than my own son. I was never going to make it. I had to have someone help me protect my son. I looked into his eyes as best I could, searching for that part of him that might help my son.

"Miss? Can ye hear me?"

He was Irish. I smiled and nearly laughed. My son was trying to learn about his ancestors. My great-great-great grandfather emigrated from Galway, Ireland. Adam was so proud of that.

"Can ye hear me, Love? Come on, now. Look at me, Lovely. Look right here,"

It was the same voice, becoming a little more urgent. I felt a warm hand on my cheek, pushing gently to have me look into those eyes again. He was such a pretty looking man. I hope Adam would look that handsome when he grew just a little. I smiled again, tilting my head just slightly to have a different angel. He was still pretty.

"Connor, we ha'e te get 'er inside,"

The voice seemed panicked and that scared me out of my own delusion.

"She's comple'ely incoherent,"

Whatever was behind me, whisked me up into their arms, cradling me to their chest. The arms that carried me were running fast and the sound of another set of feet were running right beside me. I heard the sound of a heavy door swig open, followed by an all-around echo, like a stairwell and then something was pounding fast. Gravity was pulling on my body. I must have been rising and fast. I soon felt myself laying flat on my back, unable to open my eyes past little slits. I was so tired.

"Murphy! Call Smecker!" I heard a different voice, but with the same Irish trill.

"Can ye open yer eyes fer us, Love? We jus' wan'te help ye,"

My mind was being pulled in so many directions that I didn't know which one to go first. From what I could see it was another man, around the same age as the other with the same blue eyes, but lighter hair. He said he wanted to help. I wanted to tell him to help my son, keep him safe! I tried moving my mouth, but no sound came out. How was I going to help my son if I couldn't even say where he lived?! Panic shot through me again. I looked the man that kneeled in front of me and touched my throat, hoping that he would understand.

"Ye can't speak? Murph, get me some paper and a pen! She can't talk!"

I soon felt something pushed gently into my hand and something stiff under my arm. I started to write.

_**Adam McAlley. **_

_**He lives on campus.**_

_**Boston U.**_

_**Kappa Delta Alfa**_

_**He's my son**_

_**Help him**_

_**Keep him save**_

_**Tell him I love him**_

I had done it. I had told them. I don't know who these men are, but they will help my son because I know I can't. I can feel it in my dying body that my son will be safe and live. I will die nameless and leave a story for these men to tell my son. I hope they know that I am eternally grateful for them. I finally had a chance to close my eyes. I can finally sleep.

****

Connor and Murphy stood up from there kneeling positions as they looked down to the beaten bloody woman that they thought they could save. Her skirt was torn, knees skinned raw with a shirt that was never that low on her chest to begin with. Bruises were already forming on her arms and face. Bloody knuckles showed she fought back and fought hard.

The brothers were silent as they knelt down again, bowing their heads in respect and weaving their rosary strands between their fingers, reciting the pray to send this nameless woman up the right path. Connor and Murphy looked up to each other then the woman that laid still before them and said the names of the Christian Trinity together

_In Nomeni Patri Et Fili Spiritus Sancti_

The door came to life as it was being pounded on, on the other side. Murphy got up off his knees and walked silently answer. Agent Smecker took three steps in and stopped seeing the body of the woman on one of their beds. Surprise and shock was clear on Smecker's face as Murphy shut the door behind him. Life was drained out of the room. No one said anything for the longest time as Murphy went back to kneeling with his brother and Smecker stood staring.

With little more than a squeak of the floorboards, the twin's rose and went to cross the woman's arms, but Smecker stopped them.

"Boys, not now," Smecker's normally annoying voice pitched softly, "We need to get someone in here to look her over and see what happened. You can't touch her,"

Smecker was trying to say it as nicely and gentle as possible. He came slowly over to them and guided the brother's away from the bed onto the couch, where he sat on the beaten coffee table in front of them. Connor and Murphy fell onto their knee's holding their heads in their hands, rubbing away at their eyes.

"We don't know 'er name," Murphy mumbled first, "She never told us. She cou'dn't tell us. She screamed 'er voice out,"

"Tha's why we went outside. She was screaming for all it was worth," Connor muttered right after.

Smecker nodded his head, taking in the information that they gave him. Placing his hands on the twin's knees, he leaned in, smiling softly and said:

"It may not look like much, but you helped this woman in more ways than you think. The last thing she saw was the pure shape of kindness and warmth come out of you two. She witnessed two complete strangers go out of their way to try and save a woman, who probably already knew she wasn't going to make it. That woman probably died the happiest she's ever been,"

Smecker looked to the both twins, who's heads where down and picked them up to make them look at him.

"You did everything you could and then some. Don't ever think you never did anything. It'll eat you alive, you hear me?" Smecker forwarded his brow like a father advising his kids.

Connor and Murphy nodded their heads in unison as Smecker let go of their chins. Tears were slewing in there blue eyes, they wiped them quickly to hide that they were spilling over and coughed some to clear their throats of stress.

"Oi, Con. Why don't ye get the. . ." Murphy spoke quietly, gestured towards the woman.

Connor nodded his head and went over to the bed side. He stood for a moment looking at the woman over again and, without touching her, slipped the piece of paper out from underneath her hand. Connor read the scratchy handwriting as he walked slowly back to the couch. He handed it to Smecker, who scanned it quickly. He looked over the paper to the boys and handed it to Murphy to read.

"Can the Saint's grant a woman's last dying wish?" Smecker eyed the boys and waited silently for an answer.

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**Reviews are welcome. It'll be a short story. 3 chapters at the least. . . Hope you like!**


	2. May Your Name Come Forth To Us

The sun was clear, cloudless and warm against the black wool coats that the Saints guarded, but the day seemed to reek of irony as the brothers and Agent Smecker walked in deathly silence as the searched for the fraternity house that the nameless woman had written for them. The gruesome threesome walked like a pare of pall bearers to a designated grave site as the rest of the world went on as planned. College students ran about, shouting things that were playfully vulgar or messing around with friends before class started. It was a sort of twilight zone for the Agent and the Saints. It just wasn't right. They watched a woman die in there arms and now they had the even harder task of finding her son and watch him as they tell the boy that his mother is no longer on this earth.

"Heads Up!" a voice yelled into the air.

Six eyes looked in the direction of the voice, not comprehending what was going on until there was a solid _THWAP_and Connor yelped in pain. A vollyball bounced a Smecker's feet as Connor rubbed his head in pain. Murphy picked up the ball, looking for the one that yelled the 'littl-to-late' warning and soon found himself faced with a sorority girl, bounding to them with nothing more on than a sports-bra and a pare of running shorts.

"Hey, sorry. Matt has a mad spike, but he can't seem to get it the net," the girl - who Murphy now saw was blonde - smiled kindly.

"It's fine. He's suffered throo worse," Murphy attempted a smile as he handed the ball back, but it fell flat.

The girl took the ball back, with a look of concern on her face. She stood there a moment longer as she looked between the three of them.

"Is there anything I can help you guys with? You don't look like you know your way around here very well," the girl proclaimed as she held the ball between her hip and a loose arm.

"Tha' would be lovely, miss. Could ye tell us where we can find Alpha Kappa Delta? We need to be findin' someone," Murphy asked the girl.

The girl told them as she made vague hand gestures to indicate direction. As they were about to leave the girl called and stopped them.

"Did something happen?" She closed in on the few steps that the men had made.

It was Smecker's turn to talk. He stepped forward and stuck his hands in his pockets, becoming even more serious with the situation.

"We can't disclose that information, but you'll probably hear it soon enough," And he turned around to walk to the directed fraternity house.

***

Connor, Murphy and Smecker stood on the platform in front of the well-kept brick building that had the gold Greek letters of the frat house nailed above were they stood. All three stood for a moment as they let the sound of male dominance surround them. As the shifted uncomfortable on the stoop, they looked to each other, wonder who will knock first. Connor and Murphy both looked in Smecker's direction. The agent rolled his eyes and grumbled something unintelligible as he realized he lost two out of three. Reaching between the twins, he rapped on the boor and they all three waited for an answer. This was something they have never done before and it was tearing the twins apart from the inside out. They hadn't a clue of who that woman was, but she had enough faith in them in her last dieing moments to give the brothers a piece of her that she could protect anymore. That battered woman trusted them with her last breath to keep her son safe as her world went black around her. Neither Connor nor Murphy knew what was after the nameless woman's son, but hell if they don't, they're going to save this boy from the end of the world if they have too!

But why? The brother's never voiced this question, because even as the question entered their heads, they saw the petrified woman and heard her screaming. It tugged so violently at their heart strings that they phisically felt the ache that it caused. They couldn't do anything for her, try as they might, she died in front of them and help and saving this boy from hell only knows what was the least they could do for her. They didn't know her, didn't know how she lived or what she did for a living, but as they witnessed the blazing fire of her eyes fade away their whole hearts were into her last wish, 150% and more. And may God only hope that she doesn't remain nameless.

In a short while a handsome black man answered the door and looked at the motley sight before him.

"Can I help you?" He asked kindly, a small scow in his brow.

"Yes, I'm Agent Paul Smecker, FBI and these are Agents McManus, Murphy and Connor. We need to speak with. . ." Smecker revealed a slim flip-notepad and looked over the name that he had written before they left, ". . . A Mr. Adam McAlley. Does he reside here?"

"Yeah, he does," inquired the black man, "Let me get him for you,"

"Greatly appreciated, thanks," Murphy spoke indirectly.

The college student nodded his head and called behind the door that he half hid behind.

"Ay! Yo Alley! Some fuz at da door lookin' fo yo ass!" the heard the student call through the house.

Connor and Murphy looked to Smecker and mouthed the word 'fuz', scowling in confusion. Smecker rolled his eyes and waved his hand about to drop the subject. The boys shrugged and looked to the door again, nearly jumping out of there skin. For a brief moment they thought they say the nameless woman again or at least her eyes staring back, but after a pause they saw her male replica. The man before them was thin with light skin and green eyes. He had his mother's bone structure: High cheek bones, squared jaw and an almost heart shaped face. His hair was the only thing that was different. The woman had long wavy black hair. Her son's hair was cut in haphazard layers with different shades of brown and blonde, reminding Murphy of down feathers of a baby chick, but he saw black roots were just forming on the top of the boys head.

It was so uncanny that he looked so much like the nameless woman that all three forgot how to work their mouths to speak. An awkward silence enveloped the four of them.

"Can I help ye?" Came a faded Irish trill from the boys mouth, as his eyes shifted from the three of them.

Connor and Murphy were the first to pop out of their stupor, stuttering slightly to get started.

"Ye can actual'y. Are ye Adam McAlley?" Connor asked, even if he knew the answer before he asked.

"Aye, t'at be me," Adam announced, a hard scowl folding his brow, "Wha's thes all 'bout then?"

Smecker stepped forward, standing in between the brothers. He sighed, looking to his feet then looked Adam in the eye.

"We have some bad news. Between midnight and 1:30 AM last night a woman was killed in South Boston,"Smecker spoke as authoritatively and as gently as possible as he paused the see the boys reaction.

His eyes were wide with shock, as he grasped onto the frame of the door that he stood in, waiting for the worst and why this woman involved him. Smecker continued with a muffled sound of dread in his voice.

"We suspect that that woman was your mother,"

It was finally out and they watched Adam go pale. He fell more into the frame of the door and clung to it for support. His eyes were unfocused as they swelled with tears and the three jumped into action as he collapsed to the floor, screaming.

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**Reviews are welcome! Please and thanks! :)**


	3. Call Us With Thy Saints Surrounded

Something inside the McManus twin's snapped when they heard Adam cry out. Connor and Murphy were on their knee's before Smecker had the chance to bend over to help. It was an ungraceful fall for the brothers, cutting open jeans and skin on the concrete stoop as they both reached desperately for the nameless woman's son. Connor's arms reached Adam first, rapping around the boy's shoulders and burying his face in Connor's neck, muffling his mourning screams. Adam was startled at first with the sensation of someone holding him, but he felt lost to the world and so deeply desperate that he needed that touch. Strong, shaking arms appeared on Connor's back as felt sharp fingers cling to the fabric of his coat. Connor and Adam were soon chest to chest, like an adult holding a terrified child. Murphy was at the boys side, whispering simple shushes as he leaned his face into Adam's hair, rubbing vigorously at his back in an attempt to calm the boy.

Both brothers had their heads leaning into Adam's as they looked at each other. Each pair of blue eyes showed the same expression: Useless, helpless and clueless. The three things that the twin's never wanted to be. The kept looking at each other, trying to find something, anything, different in the other one's eyes, but as Adam's wails deepened, tremors soon followed and shook through the brothers, planting that expression that much beeper into their eyes and minds. The McManus' world fogged and swirled around them. Softening the edges and features that were so crisp and clear just a few moments ago. Murphy, through the unnatural fog, saw Connor's eyes redden and swell as Connor saw the same in Murphy's.

They, themselves, were on the verge of tears.

Connor and Murphy never thought that they would be this affected by a boy, who was no more than a few years younger than they were. All three clung to each other and all three needed each other in some way, either for a shoulder to cry on or because they were the other half of the whole. Holding Adam in their arms so closely, Connor and Murphy knew that they were never going to let go of this boy. What ever snapped inside of the brothers was soon connected back together with Adam combining them.

Adam, Murphy and Connor stayed like that for a time as the twin's listened. At first the brothers weren't sure they heard anything other than terror emanating through Adam's screams, but as they truly listened to what the wails said they heard it. It was vengeance. They heard unadulterated vengeance seeping out of Adam's screams. One had to know what to look for to find that blazing thread in the weave of many and Connor and Murphy could not deny that it was there. Calculating carefully, their minds were set and their eyes focused. They needed to do this and frankly it scared the shit out of them.

The events soon after went by in a blur as Smecker, Connor and Murphy coaxed Adam to the shag couch in the other room.

From the looks of just that room, the frat house seemed to be fairly clean. There was the occasional estranged bottle and a loose article of clothing in the corner, but nothing worse than what the brothers lived in. There was just enough furniture to fill the room that they entered. The couch sat against a white wall with a coffee table in the middle of the room and two high-backed chairs that were angled inward to face the couch, seeming just that much more professional.

Adam sat slumped on the couch, pale as a sheet. Even though the screams had subsided, the tremors still racked his body, even as he tried to sit perfectly still. Connor and Murphy shared one of the chairs; Connor within the seat portion and Murphy resting on the arm of the chair, to the left of his brother. Smecker took the open seat and there was a heavy silence as no one spoke for a few moments. Neither brother could take their eyes off the withered Adam. As Smecker sat properly in the backed chair, the twin's were slumped over with their elbows on their torn knee's, propping up their heads on their hands. One of Connor's legs seemed agitated as it bounced repetitively on the ball of his boot.

Smecker cleared his throat, rather loudly and broke the stupor that surrounded the twins. They slowly came back to life as they sat up straight in their chair and watched the FBI agent pull out a case file from the folds of his jacket.

"We need to show you," Smecker started, his voice quiet and gentle, "a picture of the woman, so we can correctly identify her,"

There was a pause as they looked to Adam for any confirmation. He gave a slow nod as he raised up slightly from his slouched position. Smecker pulled out the autopsy photo out of the folders pocket and handed it to Adam, who threw it onto the coffee table, face down as soon as his eyes landed on the photo. Tears swelled in his swollen face as he stifled a sob that started working its way up his body. Adam nodded his head as he covered his mouth with his hand to try and stop the chokes.

"Yes, t'at's me mum," Adam's voice cracked.

"T'at's 'er." he repeated

Smecker's face seemed to darken as he picked up the photo from the table and replaced it back into the folder.

"Wha' happ'ned to 'er?"

Smecker paused and stammered as he looked at the autopsy report. He had already read the sheet over a dozen times before they arrived at the frat house and every time he read it-it never got any easier to comprehend how someone could do what they did to a woman like her. Even though the photo only showed the woman from the neck up, the report filled in the gaps too well and too vividly.

"Well we can't. . . shouldn't disclose. It's not good-I-we," Smecker made no sense as he kept looking into the folder instead of Adam.

Anger started to boil behind Adam's duplicate green eye as his lips pressed together in a thin line with a heavy scowl folding his brow. For a moment the brothers, once again, saw the nameless woman on the boys face. The felt sick as the kept looking at him, seeing nothing but her in his face.

"Fer Christ Sake! Tell me wha' happ'ned to my mother!" Adam snapped, shouting deliberately and desperately to the agent.

Smecker angled his eyes at Adam, scowling somewhat at the rightfully agitated college student. Connor and Murphy looked to the FBI agent, somber and solemn as Murphy tapped him lightly on his shoulder to get his attention.

"Jus' tell te lad. He needs te know," Murphy spoke, all real emotion drained out of him from the day's events.

Smecker looked back to Adam. He sat on the edge of the couch, looking at the three of them with wide eyes as he worried the couch with his long fingers. Smecker let go of a heavy breath and looked to the report one more time, as if looking for a thread of advise that the paper might be able to give him.

"She was raped and beat to the point were she was bleeding to death from the inside. Coroners were amazed she lived as long as she did," Smecker said in one breath, slouching somewhat in his chair seeming tired.

Adam blinked a few times as if that would some how help him process the information. Utter confusion plastered onto his face as he sat quietly, looking at the trio.

"Raped?" Adam squeaked, "Beaten? How's t'at poss'ble!?"

Adam paused, waiting for an answer that never came.

"She carried a gun, she knew how te use it! She was a black belt in ju-jitsu by te time she was thirteen!" Adam proclaimed loudly, "How the fuck. . . Who the fuck did this to her?"

The demand for an answer was easily heard as he eyed Smecker then looked to the brothers and held their gaze steadily.

"Tha's wha' we're tryin' te fig're out ourselves," Murphy answered, quietly and truthfully.

"We have our best working on this case. We'll find out who did this to your mother. You have my word." Smecker promised.

Adam absently nodded his head, the life spilling out of his face as he slumped back against the couch.

"A person's word it's worth a lot these days," Adam mumbled.

"No's not," Connor started.

Adam's eye flicked up to the brother, his eyebrows just inches apart.

"But ye can bet your arse that we'll go te da ends o' te Eart' to stop tha' messed up fucker," Murphy continued, "First generation Irishmen promise,"

A meaningful smirk made it's way up onto the brother's faces as they stuck out their hands and waited for Adam, as he stared them in the face. There was that look again. That searching look that went deeper than the skins surface. It was the same look that the woman gave Murphy when they found her on the street, nearly identical, but it was the faith to trust another human being that kept the difference between him and his mother. It was heart wrenching to the McManus twin's to see that, but it was perfectly understandable. As they waited, Adam leaned forward and started to reach tentatively to shake their hands. Right before he was able to grasp their palm's, Adam stopped.

"Can I real'y trust ye?" Adam asked gently.

"Ye have no reason not to trust us," Murphy started.

"But damn us both if we give ye any reason too," Connor finished.

Adam gave the brother's their first hint of a smile that they had seen since they sat down. The boy reached the rest of the way to Connor and Murphy, shaking both hands firmly to settle and get the point across. As they sat back in their seats there was another layer of silence that entered the room, but much less harsh than the twin's first anticipated it to be.

"Ye mind if we ask ye a question, Adam?" Connor inquired.

"No, not at all. Wha's yer question?"

Murphy was the one to ask as he shifted a bit on the arm of the chair of which he sat.

"Wha' was yer mother's name?"

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**Sorry it took so long. There were two way I could have gone with this, but this seemed like it had a better meaning. Hope you like it! Reviews are loved! :)**


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